Rilwen's Saga
by Rilwen1
Summary: Legolas/OFC A Warden of Lothlorien returns to Imladris. But she has a long way to go before she can ever by happy... Some violence.
1. Running to Imladris

DISCLAIMER: The Lord of the Rings universe was created by J.R.R. Tolkien. It belongs to someone else. Actually, it belongs to Tolkien Enterprises and the Tolkien estate, but trust me, I'm not making any money on this.p They do not belong to me, and I'm borrowing them without permission. These stories have been written out of love with no hope of monetary gain - I hope they'll forgive the transgression. p These stories are mine as are the characters of Morwen, Rilwen, and Miriel - so please don't take them anywhere without letting me know. I hope you enjoy the story. I'd love to hear your comments.  
Rilwen sat stunned at the news that Haldir was legally wed to Luhmawen. No expression met her face, but she was still glad no one was looking at her face. He announced his intention to honor the agreement, and some of the light went out of her eyes. She was grateful she'd stood near the back of the room as she quietly slipped out the door and down the stairs. She wasn't three steps from the talan when she started to run.  
  
Coming to herself again, she found she'd run to her own home. Her eyes cast about the room wildly, seeing all the possessions that made it hers. There were flowers in a cup by the window, a coronet on the dresser, and extra supplies to make arrows by a desk. A few other knickknacks that she'd collected were all that made the room personal. Suddenly, the face of her cousin swam in front of her eyes. "Arwen." She whispered the words. "I must see Arwen." She grabbed her patrol pack and threw her few remaining clothes and the coronet in it. She saw the cup with the flowers and stopped for a second, overwhelmed by memories.  
  
-It was one of the few times Haldir had allowed himself to truly relax while off duty. Smiling, he'd joined in the Hunt, a pastime for the Wardens that allowed them to practice their tracking skills on each other with no fear. She'd been the only one to escape receiving a token of his having found them. Haldir had laughed when Rilwen was declared the winner and presented with a crown of niphedril blossoms. She glanced at him as a strange look came into his eye, then he dismissed it with a single comment. "Ah, but the flowers will fade. Let us hope your skill does not." She smiled freely, a rare occurrence, and replied. "Since you were the one to teach me such skills, I doubt it. Yet the blossoms are like your pride in my learning well; I will renew them often."-  
  
She carefully carried the cup of flowers to the dresser and tipped it over. The flowers were several days old, so the petals broke off of several blossoms, leaving the dry composition looking like small snowdrifts. She looked around one last time, shouldered the pack, and left the room.  
  
She grabbed another bunch of arrows and some Lembas from the stores at the Warden's Hall. A quick trip to the stables, and she saddled Snowsilver, her own mare. Attaching the pack to the side, she mounted quickly and moved toward the gates of Caras Galadhon. Rilwen had to pass the talan where Haldir stood with Luhmawen. As she rode by, she noticed the Lady Galadriel herself was there to meet them. The Lady suddenly turned to look down at Rilwen. Rilwen heard the Lady's farspeech in her head and stopped to meet her eyes.  
  
Rilwen, will you abandon your watch and your Commander? Haldir noticed the attention of his Lady and looked down as well to see Rilwen astride her horse. He frowned, not recalling that she had patrol today. He noticed then that her eyes had silvered over in farspeech, and glanced at Galadriel to see the same.  
  
I beg your forgiveness, My Lady. I have enjoyed your hospitality far too long, and must return to Imladris.  
  
And can you abandon the Golden Wood, that which you have called home? Haldir suddenly saw Rilwen's eyes clear and turn to meet his. He heard the Lady move beside him, and Rilwen looked back at her. She spoke softly, yet he caught her words on the air.  
  
"The Golden Wood will remain in my heart, but I cannot remain in the Golden Wood. It is home no longer." At that, she turned the horse and galloped through the open gates to the East. Haldir turned suddenly to Galadriel.  
  
"My Lady, what does she mean? She is leaving? Where is she going?" The questions spilled out, leaving him somewhat embarrassed at his behavior.  
  
Galadriel simply looked sad. "She heads for Imladris. It is not my place to tell you reasons she will not tell you herself. The niphedril is fading." He looked totally confused as she walked away. It concerned him that his best Warden decided to take off without any warning or word at all. Perhaps there would be a clue left in her room. He felt a nudge at his elbow and looked down to see Luhmawen looking at him curiously.  
  
"I must ride. One of my Wardens has taken off unexpectedly. I fear for her safety." She frowned rather unattractively, pouting. Suddenly, Galadriel's farspeech came into his thoughts.  
  
You will not leave Lorien just yet, Haldir. Do not compound her sorrow, for it is not your place to follow. You will remain.  
The guardian halted the figure on the horse as it approached the road to Rivendell. "Halt! Who approaches?" A familiar voice came from under the hood through the rain, yet it sounded quite grieved.  
  
"It is I, Rilwen, returned from Lorien. I have come home to my family." She pulled back the hood a little to reveal the distinctive red hair he knew.  
  
"I will escort you then, and welcome home, my Lady. Lord Elrond will be most pleased to see his brother's daughter again. You have been many years away." He turned his horse as hers came astride, then paced her. "Have you fared well? We have had little word of our favorite Warden."  
  
She was quiet for a moment, then said dully, "Do not call me that, please. I have fared well enough, but my time as Warden is at an end. I will explain later after I have rested, Meladuil. It's been a hard ride." He looked at his former Commander, astonished that she would ever consider giving up the duty she seemed to love so much. He remained silent as they approached the main house. Meladuil offered to take her horse and stable her. She nodded in thanks and unhooked her pack from the saddle before heading inside.  
  
It was a struggle to keep her composure as she wandered the familiar halls. The few Elves she saw in the halls greeted her warmly and informed her Arwen was in the study with Lord Elrond. She bade them keep it a secret until she could leave her pack in her room and change out of her rain- sodden clothing. They agreed and smiled to see her home. She headed to her old room to refresh herself. Although what could possibly refresh an aching heart? She dried her hair and took out the Warden's braids. Smiling to see her dresses still hanging with sachets of lavender pinned to them, she quickly chose a lovely russet gown and slippers. Rilwen had nearly forgotten the scent of lavender over the years. It wrapped her in warm memories of her parents and relations as she settled her coronet over loose hair. Hopefully the rich scents and touch of Rivendell would ease the pain she felt. Giving herself a last once-over in the mirror, she paused at the stranger there. She glanced at the bed where her bow lay next to her quiver and blades. Not knowing her words were prophetic, she whispered to the weapons. "I live for myself, not for you. The whole of Imladris will have to be endangered before I hold you close again." With that, she turned and left the room.  
Her training allowed her to enter the study without a sound, not disturbing Lord Elrond who stood alone with his back to her at the bookcase. The fire roared in the fireplace as he set a book back on the shelf. Rilwen smiled at this beloved uncle, with his dark hair and rich robes, coronet gleaming as he spun at her words. "My Lord, will you not embrace your brother's only child?" His stern face lit up in a delighted smile at seeing her. He immediately looked concerned as he saw past the smile to the pain in her eyes. She ran into his outstretched arms.  
  
"Beloved niece! What is it that brings you back to visit so unannounced? Are you well?" She looked up, and he released her. They moved to the chairs near the fire and she took one as he kept hold of one hand.  
  
"I do not visit, Lord Elrond. I have returned home."  
  
The noble Elf frowned. "But you stated in your last letter how much you love the Golden Wood. Though I gladly welcome you home, I am concerned at the grief in your voice. What has happened, Rilwen?" His tone would brook no argument, and she knew he demanded an answer. Unshed tears glittered in the corners of her eyes as she looked at him again.  
  
"I. I feel quite the fool now, that I ran in such haste." He simply raised an eyebrow in question, and she dropped her eyes in shame. "I run from a blow to my heart. One that I had hopes for has wed another, and the pain upon seeing it was like. I have fought Orcs and received battle wounds that hurt less." He covered her hand with his other in sympathy. Silver tears made their way down her cheeks. "Oh, Uncle.I. I cannot bear to be a Warden anymore."  
  
He drew her to her feet and embraced her as she wept. Elrond's heart burned in anger at anyone who would so easily hurt another. "Was it another on your watch, Rilwen? Who has hurt you so?" She sniffed and pulled away, wiping her eyes.  
  
"I do not wish to say his name. It is enough that he has no idea I weep for loss of what I never had. I. I need time away from duty." Lord Elrond understood that she meant time away from duties that reminded her of this heartache.  
  
"Rest and heal, child. This has always been your home and will be so. If you need distraction, I can always return to the healing lessons I gave you when you were young. And Arwen is working on renewing the gardens. Perhaps you may gain strength on the soil and with the trees of your youth." She smiled gratefully at the older Elf.  
  
"I have been too long away, my Lord. The Nimrodel is grand and beautiful, but the waterfalls here are refreshing as well." He smiled and sent her on her way to Arwen with another hug. He knew that the son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood would visit Imladris in the following year. Perhaps the passionate youth would put a spark back in her eyes. Though he cared for his wife's people, their aloofness was not a good match for the deep emotions of his brother's daughter. She needed someone who was loyal and fierce, strong and still filled with the wonder of youth. He sat in the chair and prepared to attempt farspeech with his wife's mother.  
  
My Lady, my niece returns here safe, yet aching in spirit. May I ask who among you has wed recently? That she may be hurt by his unknowing actions?  
  
The answer came within a few minutes, a soft silver sigh. Ah Elrond. At least she is safe for now. She did not realize the depth of her own feelings for her Commander, March-Warden Haldir, until the time was too late. I do not believe she ever spoke to him in an encouraging manner.  
  
Elrond himself sighed in exasperation. She would not. She has ever resembled my brother, quiet waters run deep. It explains why she refuses a Warden's duties for the time being.  
  
Worry not, Elrond. She will not perish of grief. I have seen vague glimpses of her in my mirror, and she will return to bow and blades and that she knows best. She will be a light in the heart of Mirkwood in nights to come. I cannot see clearer.  
  
Elrond smiled. So, his thoughts might yet see fruition. Thank you for assuaging my fears, my Lady. I am pleased to know her heart will heal. Namarie.  
  
Namarie, son. May you both have peace and sweet water. His eyes cleared, and he returned to his beloved bookshelves. 


	2. Meeting a Prince

Rilwen headed for the outdoor council room, her dress fluttering as she walked. Layers of gauzy deep blue fabric clung to her curves and belled out to dance in her passing, enhancing the bright aqua of her eyes and the fire of her hair. She nodded politely to the servant that opened the door for her, and entered Lord Elrond's presence. She saw him upon his chair, with a young blond Elf standing before him. The Elf stood proudly and defiantly, with his bow and arrows on a table to the side with a guard in front of them. Melpomaen, Erestor, Figwit and Glorfindel sat at their Council places. She bowed low and spoke, causing the young Elf to turn and look at her. "Lord Elrond, I have arrived at your command. How may I serve you and Imladris?"  
  
The young Elf spoke impertinently. "This is your expert on arrows? A delicate maiden?" She looked at the strong jaw and slender build. Surely this one has barely over a thousand years at best with those manners, she thought. His eyes caught hers, and she was entranced for a second by the sapphire depths and lips as perfect as his bow. She forced herself to turn away as Elrond spoke in a warning tone.  
  
"This 'maiden', as you call her, has been a Warden in Lorien for several centuries and has even held the position of my own Warden Adjutant." He turned to Rilwen. "Rilwen, this is Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood. He has just come to visit, and already there is a dispute over his killing of 12 Orcs on the way here, an entire raiding party."  
  
She looked curious. "May I ask what the dispute is, my Lord? It is well known that the son of King Thranduil is an excellent archer."  
  
Elrond sighed, and Rilwen noticed his son in the room. She came quite close to smirking. "He contends that he shot all twelve himself. My dear son." His voice grated on the name, as if he would rather be doing anything than settling the disputes of young Elves. "Elrohir claims his arrow killed the last one. Neither will concede the other. The difficulty is that while Elrohir traveled here, the Prince taught him his fletchings, and we cannot tell the final arrows apart. They lie there on the table with the respective bows. Will you lend us your opinion?" Legolas crossed his arms, as if daring her to figure it out. She smiled and went over to the table.  
  
Rilwen saw the two arrows in question, along with the remainder of Legolas' quiver and his and Elrohir's bow. She whispered a few words to the guard, and he sped off on her errand. She very slowly examined both arrows in minute detail. The guard returned after a moment with another arrow and handed it to her respectfully. After examining it and a few other of Legolas' arrows, she turned back to the Prince. "Your highness, regardless of ownership, what was the placement of the arrows on the body?"  
  
He thought a moment, then pointed to his own chest. "One struck directly here into the heart, and the other was an inch and a half to the right of the heart. Both were from dead on facing the beast." She smiled knowingly.  
  
Rilwen turned to face Elrohir, who sat across from his father. Her grin was infectious, and Elrohir smiled back at her, thinking himself victorious. The happy look faded at her next words. "Do forgive me, Elrohir, but you did not own the killing blow this time." He stared at her for a moment, then leapt to his feet. He grabbed the arrow from her and sighted down it.  
  
"How do you know that, Rilwen? Tell me!"  
  
Legolas looked admiringly at her. "I am curious as well, my Lady, please explain."  
  
She took the arrow back from Elrohir and glanced at Lord Elrond. He nodded. "All of the Prince's arrows have the thread on the fletching being wound from left to right. However, the arrow that Elrohir fletched is wound from right to left." She looked up at her cousin. "You sat across from him as he taught you, therefore the wrapping is like looking in a mirror. Also, I have told you time and again that you have a heavy hand when fletching the cock feather to the left. You overcompensate, therefore your arrow had to be the one to the right." Elrohir flushed since he knew she was right. Legolas reached out for the arrow.  
  
"May I, my Lady?" She handed him the arrow, and he gazed at the feathered end of it. "She is correct, this arrow is wound the opposite way from my usual pattern. And the cock feather is lightly canted left on the nock end." His opinion of her was greatly increased. Only an Elf with many centuries of experience with the bow would have been able to notice such detail.  
  
Rilwen turned to Lord Elrond. "My Lord, that is my judgement."  
  
He smiled in relief. "And it is accepted, Rilwen. Thank you for lending your expertise. I know I called you from the preparation of several healing ointments, please return before they congeal." She curtsied and left the room. His voice turned stern as he regarded Elrohir. "And in the future, son, kindly think to check on such detail before insisting you are always right. My council has far broader topics to discuss." He flushed a little at his father's words, but bowed in apology to Legolas.  
  
Legolas graciously accepted his words and excused himself from Elrond's council. He was curious about the female with such knowledge, and wondered why she was called a "former" Warden. Why would one go from guarding their home for centuries to healing and other domestic arts? Hopefully, she would be at dinner that night. 


End file.
